Chapter 23

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Samson was on edge. It seemed that his mother might have been catching on to how useless he was. There was something important that she wanted to do, which was why she couldn't wait to do it. By splitting the group, she was making sure that he wouldn't get in the way, and she wanted the others with him to make sure he didn't do anything stupid. Sill, he couldn't explain his fear and anxiety that something might happen. This looming dread that if he looked away for too long that she would disappear and never come back. He still couldn't quite wrap his head around the fact that everyone was gone. Some mornings he would wake up expecting to be chastised by Butcher for sleeping in, only to realise there wasn't going to be any archery practice with him ever again.

These were not the streets that he was raised on, but they were familiar enough. There were no tents for the homeless here. In this city in particular, there was a crackdown on people taking up walking space. It was just an excuse, though. Something that the law and others could use to justify their hatred for those in need. It was disgusting. People weren't even allowed to fight for survival.

"This way," Samson mumbled, trying his best to avoid looking to hard at a suspiciously humanoid lump curled away in the shadows, entirely still. The adults that were with him were clearly uncomfortable. Rell kept looking over her shoulder, and Legom's eyes were downward cast, truing not to see too much. The cats were Vasily on edge, their tails kept flat and rigid, and their pupils wide and searching. They could probably smell death on the air.

"I'm surprised that they let us bring the panthers into the city," Rell commented, trying to think of something other than her environment. "Can't carry a little bit of voidstone in without a three page document signed by no less than five people from law and academia, but not a word is spoken about two massive predatory animals. I mean, I am glad we have them with us, but it just seems a little odd."

"I suppose you wouldn't have learned about the treaty." Legom mused.

"I didn't learn much of anything useful. No offense. Learning about wildshape and edible puffballs from you was pretty much the only thing I picked up that was even remotely interesting. That one girl though with the insects, that can't be normal." Seeing as Rell had entered the Druid's grove for the express purpose of studying the source, it was a wonder how she managed to stay patient for as long as she did. Apparently, she did not enjoy the overall experience of living as a druid for a year and a half.

Legom chuckled. "Very few of us are so talented. Not a fan of things that skitter myself, but even I must admit that it's impressive."

A shake of the head and a disgusted shiver were Rell's response to that. "In any case, it's weird how strict the guards are with some things and how completely lax they are with others."

"It depends on what they get in trouble for with their bosses and how much they get paid," sniffles mumbled. "They will be lax where they can get away with it, so that they don't have to constantly be on high alert. Can't afford to let a thing slip with the stuff their captains actually care about though."

"And how would you know this?" Rell inquired.

The boy shrugged. "It's important information if you want to smuggle anything past them. Never done it myself, but Mom and I have worked with people who have. Sometimes they have interesting stories to tell, though usually Mom is too busy with something else to listen to them. So, I do instead."

A Little amazed and concerned, Rell just nodded her head and muttered a simple huh.

They passed by the warehouses, where materials and equipment would be delivered by caravans before being collected by the businesses that had ordered them. Various kinds of cut lumber for carpenters and cabinet makers, and fine fabrics to be used in producing high quality garments for the wealthy.

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